


Tacos de Sesos

by Deannie



Series: They Came Upon a Midnight Clear [13]
Category: The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, Pre-Canon, not a zombie au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8830873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: “Damn,” Roque grumbles. “What was in those tacos?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> for the hc_bingo prompt hunger

The taqueria is old, the paint peeling, but honestly, we’ve been deployed to a nothing patch of land in “an undisclosed location” for a month now, rooting out drug dealers, and seriously, all the Pooch wants is some real food. We hit Mexico City this morning and we’re headed out on a transport this afternoon, so for now, this place is going to have to do.

Cougar looks at the menu for all of four seconds, and J doesn’t even take that long. 

“You two been here before?” Roque asks, that sneer in his voice as always. Man is damn uptight when it comes to those two. I could tell him neither one of them wants to jump  _ his _ bones, but why bother poking the bear, right?

Cougar nods, leaving it to J to explain, as he usually does. I mean, why talk at all when you got a motormouth who can read your mind to do it for you?

“Cougar’s abuela lives about a mile away,” J says. “The old man who runs the place has a crush on her—gives her free tamales.” His leer is hilarious, and the glare Cougar gives him is even better.

Roque glares too. Less funny.

“Can we get on with it and order?” Clay asks, sounding like a dad on a long road trip. Ain’t far from the truth, I guess.

“What the hell is all this?” Roque demands, looking at the fourteen different tacos on the menu. Of all of us, his Spanish is the worst. Speaks Portuguese fluently, though, so that helps when we’re farther south. “I’m hungry, damn it,” he gripes. “I just want a god damn taco.”

“Taco de sesos,” Cougar suggests.

No. Oh, Cougar, man… Well, Roque has been a total asshole lately. Guess you reap what you sow.

“Buenas dias, Carlos,” a hot—I mean,  _ hot _ —young lady all but purrs at Cougar as she walks up to the table with an order pad in her hand. “Senor Jake,” she adds with a slightly less adoring smile.

“Hola, Rita,” Jake says, making moves like it’s actually gonna start anything. “This is Rita, the owner’s granddaughter. Her abuelo isn’t the only one with a crush—”

“Food, Captain,” Clay barks good-naturedly. “Make time on your own dime.”

Cougar actually orders the sesos for himself, surprisingly. He obviously knows the place, but I wouldn’t eat that shit if my own mama cooked it for me. Jake goes for carnitas and the Colonel and I follow his lead. 

“This is good,” Roque says halfway through the meal, though he  _ is _ looking kind of green. Funny… Cougar looks fine. “Spicy as hell.”

Cougar grins as he finishes off his own meal. “Family recipe,” he says shortly.

We finish up and Clay settles the tab with the oh-so-hot Rita, and we pile in the car and head for the airport.

“Damn,” Roque grumbles, his stomach sounding noisy—please God don’t let it be smelly, too. “What was in those tacos?”

“ _ Brains _ !” Jake announces gleefully.

Am I the only one here who notices that Roque looks ready to hurl?

“What the—” he asks. 

“Sesos,” Jake says, totally clueless. He’s sitting next to the man.  _ I _ wouldn’t be baiting him if I were in his place. “They’re brains.” His voice dips just a little. “You are looking a little zombie-ish, actually…”

I look at Roque in the rearview mirror, and Clay turns around in the passenger seat, staring back at him with concern written all over his face. Man looks like he’s two seconds from passing out.

“Roque?” the Colonel asks softly. When he doesn’t answer, Clay flicks a look at me. “Pull over, Sergeant.”

I move off into the breakdown lane just as Roque throws up brains and god knows what else all the hell over Jensen.

Which would be all kinds of funny if he didn’t immediately pass out against the door.

“What’s wrong with him?” Jensen asks, outrage at being puked on as thick in his voice as the worry. He looks at Cougar in the back seat. “You feeling okay?”

Cougar nods mutely, leaning forward to ease Roque off the door as Clay hops out and opens it, trying to get at our downed man.

“He’s hot,” Cougar announces tightly.

“Burning up,” Clay confirms. “Damn it, what the hell, Roque?” The Colonel looks at Jake, and the seat, both covered in puke, and makes a command decision. He maneuvers Roque so he’s draped over Jensen’s lap. “Hold on to him, Captain.”

“Aw, man, Clay.” Jensen whines like a five-year-old, but he’s still got a hand on Roque’s shoulder and another cradling the guy’s cheek in his lap. “This is really disgusting.”

Clay climbs out and into the passenger seat again. “Get to the nearest hospital. I’ll call Ops when we get there.”

“More disgusting than that time in Afghanistan with the exploding cow?” I ask J as I nod and pull out into traffic. Clay glares at me for bringing it up. “I’m just trying to make him feel better.”

“Mission accomplished,” Jake says. “That was worse.” He looks up at Clay. “He’s really burning up, sir.” He pauses a minute and his voice is teasing. Roque must be awake. “You don’t think he actually went zombie when he ate those brains, do you?”

“Shut the fuck up, Jensen,” Roque grates unsteadily.

The Colonel smiles and settles back in his seat. “Good to have you back, Captain.”

*********

“Montezuma’s revenge,”  J says, trying to sound ominous. 

“Shut up before I puke on you again,” Roque growls, still looking green. At least he’s sitting up, though. He and Jake are both in scrubs now and there is no  _ way _ I’m getting back in that car before it’s cleaned. “I’d’ve been fine if you hadn’t fed me fucking  _ brains _ .”

“Probably got it at that bar in Pita Solo,” I point out, sitting off to one side. Downwind. “Told you you shouldn’t have eaten the fish.”

“It’s a Honduran staple,” Roque argues.

“Well, that Honduran staple has added three days to our layover, gentlemen,” Clay announces, stepping into the exam area. He wrinkles his nose. Yeah, boss, it stinks in here. And I’m done.

“I’ll see about getting us some rooms nearby,” I say sensibly. Cougar pushes off from where he’s been leaning on the wall behind Jake. Who, Jesus Lord, needs a bath worse than I have ever seen. 

Clay looks at the two stankiest men in the US Army and smiles. “I got the company credit card,” he points out. “Jensen, keep an eye on Captain Roque—”

“Colonel!” J starts. Roque looks equally horrified. And a little murderous, but I’m hoping he realizes how much of a pain in the ass it is to break in a new tech.

“The doctor said they’ll be releasing him in a few hours if he doesn’t throw up any more,” Clay tells Jensen with an evil smile. “So be careful what you discuss, okay?”

And I am out of there. 

“Clay!” Roque calls after the three of us as we make our escape. “God damn it, Clay, do  _ not _ leave me here with him!”

“Here’s hoping we still have five losers when we’re done,” Clay murmurs, chuckling.

I take one look back and see Jake begging with his eyes to be rescued. Hell, it was him and Cougar and their brains got us into this. I grin as I turn to the door.

_ You reap what you sow, J. _

********   
the end


End file.
